JACINTA 

AND OTHER VERSES 

By Howard V. Sutherland 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

T.5^ 

Chap Copyright No 

.8helf.,U_9._jV-^ 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Jacinta 



J A C I N T A 

A Californian Idyll 

And Other Verses 

By/ 
Howard V. Sutherland 




Doxey*s 

At the Sign of the Lark 

New York 

1900 



'4887 



Library of Conqresa 

Two Copies Received 
NOV 13 1900 

SN Copyright onlry 

SECOND COPY . 

Delivc-rod to 

ORDER DlViSION 

MOV 23 1900 



No 






\'\P 



Copyright, 1900 
Howard V. Sutherland 



UNIVERSITY PRESS • JOHN WILSON 
AND SON • CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 



To 



FRANK DEARDORF 



Contents 

pVge 

Jacinta 3 

The Lost Light 42 

Our Lady of Great Consolation .... 43 

San Francisco 44 

Lyric 45 

Close the Gates 46 

Art 47 

Science 48 

The Evening Stars 49 

This Day's Message 5° 

Compensation 5^ 

Death 52 

The One Face 53 

The Players' Question 54 

The Midnight Visitation 55 

vii 



Contents 



PAGE 



The Poet's Creed 56 

Lyric 57 

Hope at the Grave of Love 58 

With a Volume of Elizabethan Lyrics . 59 

With a Tanagra Statuette 60 

Lyric 61 

The Higher Praise 63 

The Writing on the Wall 64 

To One in Doubt 65 

Lyric 66 

Robert Browning 67 

To One Who Wears Opals 6S 

The Higher Marriage 69 

A Prayer for a Man's Passing .... 70 



vin 



JACINTA : 
A CALIFORNIAN IDYLL 



JACINTA 

I SING of home, of western shore, 
Which hears each morn and night the sea 
With mighty crash and booming roar 

Give praise to God eternally ; 
Upon whose sands are sometimes hurled 
The wreckage of one half the world. 

I sing of home because I know 
My land of purple, green and gold ; 

Because I love it, and although 
I live in exile still I hold 

Of all earth's queenly lands the best 

Is still the sea-lapped, sun-lit West. 
3 



Jacinta 

I sing thereof because my soul 

Is sick with longing and I fain 
Would see the shining aureole 

That crowns the west, when down the main 
The sun goes royally ; the light 
Around him and behind — the night. 

How well I know that sea of mine 
When angry Tritons churn its deeps ; 

When maddened waves upheave their brine 
Against the land's rock -armored steeps ; 

And sullenly retreat again — 

Their frenzied onslaught all in vain. 

Towards the blind and barren beach 

Whose breast is strewn with shell and weed, 

The waves' white hands forever reach 
Until the waves themselves recede 

And arch their splendid backs in wrath 

And burst in floods of foam and froth. 
4 



Jacinta 

How well I know the wheeling gulls ; 

The hollow howling of the wind ; 
The barking seals ; the fitful lulls ; 

The surf; the dreary dunes behind ; 
The frowning clouds, close-wedged, enorme, 
The grim spectators of the storm. 

What bodes the ocean's empty rage? 

Why howl these foolish winds so loud? 
The Westland has its heritage — 

Immunity from storm and cloud. 
There cannot be eternal war 
Between the sea and this fair shore. 

While yet the sea-lashed Tritons fight 
The sun appears and bids them cease ; 

The skies are tinged with golden light, 
The winds and waters sign a peace. 

And ere the sands have drunk their fill 

A silence falls o'er sea and hill. 
5 



Jacinta 

How well I know my western land 
That clothes itself each month anew 

With blooms more golden than the sand, 
As white as snow, than sky more blue — 

Dear flowers that are content to be 

Like nuns in their humility ! 

The poppy, iris, marguerite, 

The larkspur and the violet ; 
The honeysuckle, fresh and sweet, 

The bluebell and the mignonette ; 
The pansy (loved of Proserpine), 
Forget-me-not and eglantine. 

And others which I cannot name 
Yet which are fair as flowers are ; 

Each morn, behold, they weep with shame 
At having wooed some distant star 

Which saw them not, but loved in turn 

The moon, for which all stars must yearn. 
6 



Jacinta 

Dear blooms, the world were drear indeed 
Were you not here to make it gay ; 

You make us think who sowed the seed, 
Who closes you at end of day. 

You may be humble, yet you teach 

Us more, perhaps, than they who preach. 

How fair those morns when o'er the deep 
Sets sail to wearied pagan lands 

The poppy-freighted ship of sleep 

To give men rest and ease their bands. 

Soft music seems to fill the air 

As though the angels choired there. 

How good each summer afternoon 

To lie amid the sedges tall 
And render thanks for God's best boon — 

To be alive and feel it all ; 
To be a part of land, of sea, 
The Past and of Eternity ; 
7 



Jacinta 

To hear the music of the shell, 
To feel the joyous wind's caress, 

To see the ocean's bosom swell 

And know Who makes it restless — yes, 

To be a very part of Him 

Who sends the mighty seraphim 

To beat the waters back and forth. 
And drag the ocean's silvered floors ; 

To tear the icefloes from the North, 
To light the lamps at heaven's doors ; 

To fling the snow on mountain crest 

And drive the sun from east to west. 

When evening falls, with crimson blush 
The sky beholds the earth prepare 

To woo the night. A solemn hush 
Pervades the faintly-perfumed air, 

Unless, perchance, by lonely bird 

The dreaming hills and woods are stirred. 
8 



Jacinta 

But soon the singer seeks its nest, 

Night's sentries guard the purpled dome ; 

The very sea incHnes to rest 

And gives the ocean birds a home. 

The hopeless moon, like pale-faced nun, 

Still dreams about the kingly sun. 

O'er sands and sea, o'er hill and vale, 
A sense of peacefulness descends ; 

No more the insects drone the tale 
Of how the day's short pleasure ends ; 

No more the straggling bees make known 

Their love in language all their own. 

But very soon the winds arise 

And murmur softly to the trees 
The songs they hear in Paradise — 

The holy angels' symphonies. 
And while they sing with voices deep 
The West, my West, is lulled to sleep. 

* * * * * * 

* * * 



Jacinta 

THE IDYLL 

A HILLY sea-coast, cleft in two, 
Some rocks, with barking seals at play ; 
A ruined fort which dares the blue 

And gray Pacific day by day. 
Deceptive slopes where bugles blow ; 
A bay secure from storm or foe. 

A youthful city, throned on hills, 
A city loved of wind and sun — 

A chalice which the evening fills 

With peacefulness when day is done ; 

O'er which the golden rays decline 

In steady streams of amber wine. 

To some a mother, on whose breast 
Most weary men from older lands 

Can lay their tired heads and rest 

Till strength returns to heart and hands ; 

Till will returns to up and move 

The slow world upward, groove by groove. 

lO 



Jacinta 

To some a youth, alert and proud, 
Whose Titan father sought his mate 

Among our hills, half- veiled in cloud ; 
A youth unfearing, sure of Fate, 

Determined, friend of Right and Truth - 

A type of noblest western youth. 

To some who look with lovers' gaze 
And point her beauty out at night, 

She seems a mistress all ablaze 

With countless jewels, red and white ; 

Outstretched above the sea she lies, 

Unuttered dreamings in her eyes. 

The four great winds of heaven strive 

To do her service loyally ; 
When stars wax amorous they drive 

The spectral mist from off the sea 
And hide her underneath its wings 
Until the day's first herald sings. 
II 



Jacinta 

The waters play about her feet, 
The breezes sport above her head ; 

In winter's cool, in summer's heat 
Amid the hills she hath her bed ; 

And be her pillow green or brown 

'Mid flowers she can lay her down. 

In future years, it hath been writ. 

This western State shall rise and draw 

All earnest-purposed men to it, 
All laden ships towards its shore ; 

And proudly on the wooing air 

Shall float the Banner of the Bear. 

And San Francisco shall be made 
The arbitress 'twixt West and East, 

Adjudging fairly, unafraid ; 
Her tribunals toward the least 

And to the greatest e'er shall be 

A very spring of Equity. 



Jacinta 

Religion, Industries and Arts 

Shall here abide in those dim years 

When older lands, with older marts. 
Are blotted out beneath the tears 

Of humble workers ; worn away 

By breath of Time's sad serf — Decay. 
* * * 

western land, O western town, 
O western women, western men. 

When comes the day that I go down 
To sunless lands and sleep, ah, then, 

1 beg ye grant to me the love 
So hard a-winning here above. 

So hard a-winning, though I sought 
By humble means to make it mine ; 

Not only has the soldier fought, 
But even he who hears divine 

Sad songs within his sunless heart 

And strives their message to impart 
13 



Jacinta 

To men and women wed to toil ; 

To those who have no time to hear 
The voice that rises o'er the broil 

Yet reaches only dreamer's ear, 
And whispers him of peace and rest 
And recompense for earth's oppressed. 

And very oft the man who sings 
Is wounded ; but he dares not tell 

About his wounds, his sufferings — 
He smiles, and all seems passing well. 

The song is heard ; but who shall heed 

The singer or the singer's need ? 

And though I heard a spirit sing 

About these sundown seas and lands, 

I could not tell ye everything — 
I do my best. God understands. 

And ye ? Ye will remember, then. 

My western women, western men ? 



14 



Jacinta 

Upon a hill that faced the sea 
A cottage stood, a humble place, 

Yet built of fragrant redwood tree 
And fashioned with a certain grace 

That spoke of taste and made one fain 

To pause and look at it again. 

Its walls were hid beneath a veil, 

Where birds made nests, of lasting green ; 
And roses red and roses pale 

And one big bunch of jessamine 
Entwined the latticed porch and made 
A scent as of a forest glade. 

A garden filled with shady trees 
And old-time flowers grew around ; 

They nodded idly in the breeze 
Or cast their petals on the ground ; 

While watchful hedges kept at bay 

The dune's encroachment day by day. 
15 



Jacinta 

'T was early morn. The sun as yet 
Just stained the peaks with golden dye ; 

From out its leafy minaret 
A songster carolled at the sky 

And sought from out its nest to stir 

Each sleepy feathered worshipper. 

The sea was like a silver shield, 

Which scarcely seemed to rise or fall ; 

But when the sunbeams lit each field 
The shield was sapphire-hued, and all 

The waves awoke and clapped their hands 

And raced towards their love — the sands. 

And suddenly one sound was heard, 
The mingled music of the deep. 

The joyful wind, the careless bird — 
All nature, fresh-aroused from sleep. 

One endless song, one mighty hymn ; 

God's playthings giving thanks to Him. 
i6 



Jacinta 

The door was opened and there came 
From out the house with stately tread 

And peaceful mien an aged dame ; 
The silvered hair upon whose head 

Was like a crown Time gives the old — 

More honored than a crown of gold. 

Your golden crowns are only worn 
In empty pomp by fated kings ; 

But silvered hair, like crown of thorn, 
Suggestive is of higher things. 

It tells of sorrow and of care 

Yet hints of triumph o'er despair. 

The dame's arrival seemed a sign 
For chicks of every size and kind 

In piping chorus to combine 
And follow noisily behind 

Their chatelaine, who also fed 

The birds that twittered overhead. 
17 



Jacinta 

And then among the younger flowers 
She moved and gathered, one by one, 

The sweet companions of the hours 
Whose lives, alas, so soon are done ; 

And thought, perhaps, how even she 

Must brave some day the Greater Sea. 

But ere her posy was complete 
The door was opened once again 

By one who ran with tripping feet 
That touched the path like summer rain 

To where the smiling mother stood — 

Still conscious of her motherhood. 

Jacinta this ; a simple girl 

Of seventeen, who had not spent 

Her childhood in the fevered whirl 
Of city life, where backs are bent 

And souls are dwarfed beneath the load 

We all must pack along the road. 
i8 



Jacinta 

A child at heart, who had not known 
The city's base temptations ; for 

With mother she had Uved alone 
Above the sea, above the shore — 

Above the rocks, above the wrecks, 

Beyond the touch of derelicts. 

A flower born 'neath redwood trees 
Transplanted to the peaceful heights ; 

A playmate of the rain and breeze, 
Of shadows and of changing lights. 

As much a part of nature as 

The poppies and azaleas. 

A simple girl whose faith was still 
As whole as piping bird's may be ; 

Who saw a glory on the hill 

And heaven's mirage on the sea ; 

Whose trust in all her kind was sure 

Because herself was good and pure. 

19 



Jacinta 

A comely maid she was. Her hair 
Was golden as the autumn grain ; 

Her eyes were blue ; her skin was fair 
Despite the touch of wind and rain. 

She seemed a dryad of the wood 

Just merging into womanhood. 

She kissed her mother ; then she placed, 
With girlish pride in girlish strength, 

A rounded arm about her waist ; 

And so they slowly walked the length 

Of all their world, until at last 

'T was time to break the morning's fast. 
* * * 

O ye who idly while away 

The morn, the noon, the eve, the night, 
Forget not those who never play — 

The little ones who have to fight 
To earn their daily loaf of bread, 
To pay for clothes or trundle-bed. 

20 



Jacinta 

They are so young, they are so frail, 
They were not made to work like men ; 

The blood that leaves those cheeks so pale 
Can ne'er be conjured back again. 

Those little limbs, so weak, so thin, 

How can these children conquer sin ? 

How few of them have seen the sea! 

How few have spent a holiday 
Among the trees where they should be 

Instead of withering away 
Beneath the tiles, upon the street, 
Exposed alike to cold and heat ! 

Had ye a sister? Look at these ! 

A brother ? See those urchins there ! 
The sweat shops and the factories 

Are fed with such from year to year ; 
And later on the prisons reap 
The unripe harvest. Can ye sleep? 

21 



Jacinta 

There are so many to assist ; 

There is so much that ye can do 
To help the httle ones who missed 

The joys of Hfe. If ye but knew 
How oft they hunger, I am sure 
Ye 'd help the children of the poor. 



WITHIN the city there did dwell 
An unknown youth, John Orme by name ; 

Whom fortune favored not too well 

Although he fought his way to fame 
In after years — as all must do 
Who wish to join the chosen few. 

22 



Jacinta 

An upright lad of kingly heart, 
Of kingly mien and kingly soul ; 

A lad to take and play a part 

And leave his name on honor's scroll. 

A lad whom men would love and whom 

A girl would follow to the tomb. 

A western lad who had not been 
Beyond the borders of his State, 

But knew full well (for he had seen) 
What makes our California great j 

And was content to stay and be 

A partner in her destiny. 

* * * 

Look out upon your fertile land, 

Ye Californians, and be proud ; 
The sea is yours, that golden sand. 

Those mountains which defy the cloud ; 
Those valleys rich in fruit and corn 
Those streams where trout and salmon spawn. 
23 



Jacinta 

Ye have of precious ore your share, 
Ye have your cattle and your steeds ; 

Ye have your solemn forests where 
No drunken Pan e'er piped on reeds 

To break the dreams of redwood trees 

As hoary as the centuries. 

Your sons are clean souled, brave and strong, 
Good men to love, good men to fight ; 

Good men to rectify a wrong 

When once they start to set things right, 

And make new laws and simpler creeds 

To suit their fellows' many needs. 

Your daughters are as fair as pearls. 

As pure as purest pearl can be ; 
(A health to all dear western girls 

Across the land, across the sea !) 
Behold their strength of limb, their grace ; 
Ye need not fear for western race. 
24 



Jacinta 

Look out upon this State of yours, 

Ye Californians of to-day ; 
The world is at your very doors — 
Ye cannot keep the world away ; 
And in your dreams when ye are dead 
Ye '11 hear it tramping overhead. 
* * * 

They met at first beside the sea — 
The sea which gives and takes again ; 

The restless priest of Destiny 

Whose very voice is fraught with pain ; 

The sea which never sleeps, and sees 

Such sorrow and such tragedies ! 

And then they met upon the hills 
Each drawn towards the other by 

That force which guides and sometimes stills 
The flaming meteors of the sky. 

And soon Jacinta knew no more 

The peace that had been hers before. 
25 



Jacinta 

For though they talked of other things, 
About their hopes, about their fears, 

Love touched them gently with its wings 
And lo ! it seemed that they for years 

Had wandered thus on hills or sand. 

Two happy children, hand in hand. 

And soon John loved her, as a weed 
Might love a rose ; for he was poor 

And never dreamed that she had need 
Of him to make her peace secure. 

And she, whose prayers were still unheard. 

Knew all, but could not say a word. 

The months passed by till one late noon 
The maiden and the mother sat 

Beside their door, nor thought how soon 
A Visitor would knock thereat 

And beckon one to come and see 

The glory of God's majesty. 
26 



Jacinta 

The mother's thoughts were with the past, 
Her soul was with her patient dead ; 

But Hfe's blue sky was overcast 
For sweet Jacinta, and instead 

Of dreaming of the coming years 

She dreamed of John amid her tears. 

And soon she knelt beside the dame 
And sobbed unhindered ; then she told 

About her love and how he came 
Across her path, like knight of old ; 

And how the very dunes seemed fair 

And beautiful when he was there. 

And how a glory clothed the sea 
Because she saw it through his eyes ; 

And how the bright stars seemed to be 
The outer lamps of Paradise, 

And all because God's ministers 

Had made her his and made him hers. 
27 



Jacinta 

Alone they were, those sacred ones — 
The maid and mother ; both akin 

In purity to purest nuns 

Who ever pray for those who sin ; 

The maid and mother — links that bind 

The spirit world with humankind. 

Across the embowered portico 
The first sad heralds of the mist 

With faces veiled and footsteps slow 
Crept past to keep their phantom tryst, 

And laid their cool moist fingers on 

The roses' cheeks in benison. 

The sea was hid beneath a pall 

Which spread along the sand's soft bed, 
And soon the lonely dunes and all 

The shore was hid ; while overhead 
The mist swept past and every hill 
Wore Death's gray robe and was as still. 
28 



Jacinta 

The mother kissed her grieving child 
And stroked her hair and bade her be 

Less sad of heart and reconciled 
To God's own will and surely He 

Would one day, when He deemed it best, 

Set both their troubled hearts at rest. 
* * * 

That self-same night there softly trod 
The winding stairways of the skies 

An angel from the courts of God — 
A Gardener, with kindly eyes 

Most calm with age, most kind with love, 

Who tends the gardens there above. 

He was not heard, he was not seen. 
Nor did he make his presence known ; 

For though the Gardener has been 

Each night to earth since first were sown 

The flowers he culls, and holds so dear, 

Men think of him, and will, with fear. 
29 



Jacinta 

They do not know how good he is, 
How very wise, how very kind ; 

As old as human frailties — 
To all our imperfections bhnd. 

They do not know he plants us all 

In gardens near God's tribunal. 

That night he walked along the shore 
And saw among the hills afar 

A cottage he had passed before, 
The door of which was left ajar. 

He went thereto and oped it wide 

And saw two flowers, side by side. 

Asleep they lay. The one still fair — 
A simple child whose cheeks were wet ; 

The angel saw her golden hair 

And folded hands and said : " Not yet, 

Sweet one, so young ; for thou must learn 

The joys of life ere I return. 
30 



Jacinta 

" The flowers of yonder land above 

Have known life's joy, have known its pain ; 

Have known its grief, have known its love, 
Have seen night turn to day again. 

The buds are only gathered when 

They might be bruised by thoughtless men." 

He passed to where the other lay, 
Narcissus-white, with heart of gold ; 

He touched her, saying : " Come away 
To where thy petals may unfold ! " 

She sighed in sleep, then sweetly smiled 

And woke to plead for her dear child. 



31 



Jacinta 

''' I ^ WAS evening now. Two days had gone 
-■• To join the Past since on the heights 

The angel walked and left thereon 
A simple flower to brave the nights — 

The awful nights, the barren days 

When one departs and one still stays. 

The air was now so calm, serene, 

So full of subtle promisings, 
One scarce believed that Death had been 

Along that way, or that his wings 
Perhaps were drooping even then 
Above the heads of boastful men. 

The sun was setting. O'er the grass 
Belated sunbeams cast their gold 

Like careless spendthrifts whom, alas, 
The cloak of night must soon enfold, 

And who can never read the sky 

And learn how soon they have to die. 
32 



Jacinta 

The sky was robed in pearly gray, 
With fringe of violet and blue, 

With lemon tints where yet the day 
Was disappearing, passing through 

The heaven's arch to light the least 

Of all the mountains in the East. 

The glinting city seemed asleep. 

Its revelry was laid aside ; 
For men are glad to rest and keep 

The Sabbath holy, o'er the wide. 
Wide world wherein they come and go* 
Like human ships, tossed to and fro. 

And e'en the sea was very still. 

The waves rolled softly up the sand ; 

No sound was heard on dunes or hill — 
The world appeared to understand 

That Grief had left her biding place 

To be on earth a little space. 

3 33 



Jacinta 

Among the hills where few men tread 
There lies an acre hedged around, 

Wherein repose the peaceful dead — 
A silent place where ne'er a sound 

Except the piping of a bird 

Or crash of distant surf is heard. 

A humble place except to them 

Who sojourn there, and know that they 

Will some day see the cherubim 
Pour forth the mighty vials of Day 

Upon the purpled robes of Night 

And flood the world with purest light. 

Without, the restless sedges wave 

Their lissome arms towards the sea ; 
Within, above each grass-locked grave 

Sweet flowers bloom eternally. 
Without, nor winds nor worries cease ; 
Within is ever rest and peace. 
* * * 

34 



Jacinta 

Whoe'er thou art thou shalt be borne 
One day to such a resting place ; 

And though thy heart be glad or torn 
When thou hast run thy little race 

Thou, too, shalt lay thee down and find 

Good rest in death, and peace of mind. 

Whoe'er thou art, or rich or poor. 
The Gardener will come for thee 

And place thy cross this side the door 
And lay thee with his company. 

And thou shouldst not be loath to leave 

The life wherein one has to grieve. 

Whoe'er thou art, or sick or well. 

Thou shalt be borne by others there ; 

Thou dost not know, no man can tell 
Of thy hence-taking, when or where. 

But thou shouldst not be loath to sleep 

Where none will dream and none will weep. 
35 



Jacinta 

Whoe'er thou art, or young or old, 

Thou shouldst be more than glad to go, 

To leave thy poverty or gold 

For those who still must reap and sow j 

For there among those silent friends 

All toil is o'er, all sorrow ends. 
* * * 

Along the central path there crept 
A slow procession ; first there were 

The men who bore the one who slept 
And who would soon be resting there ; 

While many women walked behind 

With children restless as the wind. 

Towards a grave they wound their way — 
An open grave which soon would hide 

Until the final Judgment Day 

The humbled dust that lay inside. 

And when at last they came thereto 

They laid the casket down and drew 
36 



Jacinta 

Around their priest who knew each one — 
Had blessed them all before at birth 

And when their little lives were done 
Would bless and lay them in the earth, 

And pray for them by night and day 

Until he, too, was lured away. 

He spoke to them in simple speech 
And told them all that man can tell, 

The lessons that the Scriptures teach — 
The promise that it shall be well 

With those who do their humble best 

And lay them down in faith to rest. 

He told them how each mortal must 
Pass on towards that higher sphere. 

And leave as tribute here his dust 
Which grows so heavy as we near 

The little door that closes fast 

When once the wanderer has passed. 
37 



Jacinta 

He told them of that fairer place 
Where we shall meet at trumpet call 

And see our Maker face to face 
And learn the reason of it all : 

Where loved ones linger side by side 

And are forever satisfied. 

He paused awhile till sturdy men 
The casket lowered to its bed 

Upon the yellow clay, and then 
He cast on it some earth and said 

Those mighty words that promise hfe 

Yet wound the heart like keenest knife. 

The mourners stayed until the grave 
Was satisfied. When all was through 

The priest to each his blessing gave 
And all went homewards ; all save two 

Jacinta, one ; the other, John, 

Who could not leave but lingered on. 



Jacinta 

They stood together, hand in hand, 
A western lad, a western maid ; 

Afar was heard upon the sand 

Each wave's faint murmur as it laid 

Its tribute at her golden feet 

And died ere conquest was complete. 

And solemn bells would chime and then 
Be lost in space ; content to be 

Of moment's use — reminding men 
Of prayer and of eternity. 

And how they too must fade away 

As fades the sunshine, ray by ray. 

The heavens were darkened now ; the stars, 
Like vestal virgins whom the sun 

Keeps prisoners behind the bars. 

Stepped slowly forth and, one by one. 

Prepared to greet and glorify 

The stately empress of the sky. 
39 



Jacinta 

The winds in numbers sad and slow 
Had sung the dead day's requiem ; 

Had seen its courtiers seawards go, 
Had seen the evening follow them ; 

They lingered now upon the hill 

Where all, except the sedge, was still. 

One almost seemed to feel the breath 
Of angels on the scented air ; 

Or was it yet the wings of Death, 
The Gardener, who hovered there 

Above the silent, grieving twain 

And fain had made them glad again? 

Jacinta sobbed as though her heart 
Were like to break ; for still it seemed 

She could not dare to play her part 
Alone in life, where no star gleamed 

To set her wandering feet aright 

And comfort her throughout the night. 
40 



Jacinta i 

She knelt and prayed for help and strength 
To do her work, to find her way 

Throughout life's maze, and when at length 
She rose again, it seemed a ray 

Of light suffused her doubting soul 

And made it strong again and whole. 

And still they lingered side by side 
Although they never spoke a word ; 

But He whom she had asked to guide 
Her bark across the sea had heard 

Her girlish prayer ; for even while 

She turned to John with weary smile, 

To bid him take her home, he stood 
In front of her and told his love ; 

And something whispered he was good 
So, with a prayer to God above. 

She gazed in his clear eyes and saw 

Not only heaven something more. 

41 



Jacinta 



THE LOST LIGHT 

AS one in dreams awhile may clearly see 
The much-loved face of one long passed 
away, 
So, too, there comes, when saddest seems the day, 
A fleeting glimpse of Paradise to me. 
I see the hosts who wait with bended knee 

Before the Throne whence glory streams alway ; 
I seem to hear the very words they say 
In tones that make the wind's sweet melody. 

But when my soul, returned from heaven, tries 
With gentle song to still the hapless sighs 

Of my pale fellows, slaves to grief and pain, 
Expression fails me and while yet I seek 
In halting rhyme the words I heard to speak. 

The curtain falls and all grows dark again. 
42 



Jacinta 



OUR LADY OF GREAT CONSOLATION 

SHE stands secure above the world's unrest 
To plead with God the sorrows of our race ; 
A mother's smile relights her thoughtful face 
As each lone soul creeps sadly to her breast. 
Within her arms (O arms so softly pressed 
About thy babe !) each one may find a place 
Who yearns for love and that all-sacred grace 
With which at last earth's weary ones are blest. 

Each one to her can falter out the tale 
Of tasks attempted, how results would fail 

The soul's ideal and the heart's desire ; 
And when, at last, the childish murmurs cease, 
With soothing glance she gives the griever peace 

And strength to brave the daytime's purging fire. 
43 



Jacinta 



SAN FRANCISCO 
(from the hills) 

'"|\ yriD sedges tall this summer day I lie 
^^■^ And hear the waves fall softly on the sand. 
So pure the air, it seems with outstretched hand 

One e'en might touch that veil we call the sky. 

From o'er the sea the wind with fretful sigh 
Betakes its way across the fertile land, 
Whose flaunting poppies form a golden band, 

And dance before the sun's voluptuous eye. 

Beyond the dunes a city, young but proud, 
Uprears its front in sunshine or through cloud — 

The fairest jewel on our country's breast ; 
A man-made city, whose strong voice shall sound 
In days to come life's truths the world around, 
And wake earth's leaders from their gold-drugged 
rest. 

44 



Jacinta 



I 



LYRIC 



N the wake of the moon is one faithful attendant 
Who finds his delight 
In watching the face of his mistress resplendent, 
The Queen of the Night. 

The moon has attained to the height of her power, 

The star is still pale ; 
'Twixt aught save the sun and the heaven's fair flower 

What love can avail? 

So the nights turn to years, and the moon in her glory 

Still travels through space ; 
And the star gives no sign of his love or his story 

But watches her face. 



45 



Jacinta 



CLOSE THE GATES 

MAKE fast the gates through which for years 
have poured 
The lawless hosts from yonder side the world ; 
Against our land these human shafts are hurled 
And spread contagion from their own foul horde. 
Dear to their souls are fire and the sword, 

Like snakes they lie within the shadow curled ; 
They flout our flag — the flag which floats unfurled 
Above their heads them freedom to aflbrd. 

Our men are idle and our women weep, 
Their little babes go hungrily to sleep ; 

And still they come — Italians, Slavs and Greeks. 
Make fast the gates against this human slime 
For Want will drive our stalwart men to crime 

And tempt their daughters with their whitened 
cheeks. 

46 



Jacinta 

ART 

THE same to-day with dim, dead yesterdays 
True Art remains, beyond Death's welcome 
thrall, 
And pays no heed to that imperious call 
Whereby earth's great obtain their deathless bays. 
Through gray-hued years, in drear, unlightened 
ways, 
From on her throne she sees vast empires fall 
Whose crumbling wrack ne'er soils her temple's 
wall, 
Strong built and high, of envious chrysoprase. 

And one sweet chord doth bind all souls who kneel. 
Or once have knelt at her dear feet, and feel 

That quenchless flame her chosen understand ; 
Thus they who sleep beneath Italian skies 
Are one with those who hear the wind's soft sighs 

With restful requiems woo our western land. 
47 



Jacinta 



SCIENCE 

WITH cool, calm brow and eyes dispassionate 
She sits near Art, and sees her children 
wrest 
The veil aside which shields the earth's warm 
breast 
And, one by one, their victories consummate. 
To those who dare, she shows both cause and fate 
Of all vain things, and helps their eager quest 
To read the words that crown life's sunlit crest 
Before they seek, pale-lipped, Death's shadowed 
gate. 

A teacher she, who makes her pupils find 
Mysterious meanings in the rain and wind. 

And hints of heaven in the humblest sod ; 
And though she rends, the rents but help to prove 
The law behind — the law of ceaseless love 

That proves Man's grand affinity with God. 
48 



Jacinta 



THE EVENING STARS 

THE stars that light the firmament, 
I often think, are nuns, 
Who purely lived and gladly went 

To chant their orisons 
In chorus at the golden door 
Whence mercy streams forevermore. 

We only see those nuns at night ; 

By day they kneel and pray 
And ask of God to send us light 

To drive our gloom away. 
But every eve they sing and smile 
And heavy hearts are glad the while. 



49 



Jacinta 



THIS DAY'S MESSAGE 

MAKE thou no plan of deeds that will be done 
To-morrow — day that may not dawn for 
thee; 
Perchance 'tis writ this night the night shall be 
Wherein thy soul by hungry Death is won. 
E'er morning light thy Hfe's last sands may run 
Their fleeting course, and thou must brave that 

sea 
Whose fearsome waters glide eternally 
Between earth's shores and heaven's outpost sun. 

To-day thou art ; a few short hours are thine 
Wherein to quaff of life's enchanting wine 

Whose bitter dregs must, too, be drained at last. 
To-morrow is to-morrow's. Canst thou say 

What thou wilt do, or how wilt while away 
The unborn hours to which thy right is past ? 
50 



Jacinta 



COMPENSATION 

I DREAMED one night I stood before the seat 
Of God in heaven, brooding o'er my past. 
With bitter smile my bleeding soul I cast 
For judgment in the flames about His feet. 
But very soon my soul, made pure and sweet. 
Flew back to me, and I beheld at last 
My nobler self, angelic grown and vast. 
And all my life seemed rounded and complete. 

Abashed I stood, until an angel came 

And led me thence to where the blessed Dame 

Awaited us, upon her breast a dove. 
She understood the look upon my face 
Which seemed to ask: "Wherefore this gift of 
grace?" 
So smiled and said : " Our God, is He not 
Love?" 

51 



Jacinta 



DEATH 
TT /"ITH restful lips, o'er which no laughter 

And mighty limbs, in gray hues garmented, 
She sits and waits life's outcast, weary dead 
To seal their mouths and close their frightened 

eyes. 
No heed she pays to pleadings, nor to sighs. 
But lays her hand on each care-weighted head 
And gives it rest — God's promised rest — 
instead. 
Until each one from sleep shall rearise. 

And unto each she doth a gift bequeath — 
To those who strived, perhaps, a laurel wreath ; 

To others sleep and sweet forgetfulness. 
While unto those whose lips ne'er knew, above. 
The fond communion of another's love, 

She doth bestow, unknown, their first caress. 
52 



Jacinta 



THE ONE FACE 

AS one late rose, unspoiled by autumn winds, 
Makes bright the garden, desolate and bare 
So one dear face, the soul's fond comforter. 
Can with a smile make all the world seem fair. 



53 



Jacinta 



THE PLAYERS' QUESTION 

" TT THENCE come the countless phantoms 
» » which we see 

Filling our house, new-visaged every day? 

Where do they go when once they pass away, 
Silent, unnoticed, wrapt in mystery? 
Who is this One (if One there truly be) 

Who has the power to create and slay 

Us, the poor puppets of this ghostly play 
Which may continue through eternity? " 

So ask the weary players ; but, alas. 

No answer comes till one by one they pass 

(The priest, the fool, the soldier and the sage) 
Behind the misty curtain and, revealed. 
See what was once conjectured, though concealed — 

A host of actors on a mighty stage. 
54 



Jacinta 



THE MIDNIGHT VISITATION 

BUT yesternight my own Beloved came — 
My sad soul's light, both wondrous fair and 
wise — 
And lit awhile with rays from her sweet eyes 
The humble room wherein I toil for fame. 
So fair she seemed ! About her head the same 
Rich glory hovered that one sees in skies 
That gain the day's last blessing, ere it flies 
To tell earth's sorrow to the star-crowned Dame. 

How good it was on that still ripening breast. 
Forgetting all, my weary head to rest, 

And cool my lips within her tresses' shade ; 
But when I sought, grown strong, to hold her hand 
Within mine own that she might understand, 

I sighed, and then — ah well, each dream must 
fade. 

55 



Jacinta 



THE POET'S CREED 

I FAIN would teach the beauties of belief, 
In that grand creed wherein the one God 
bides, 
Above all worlds and in all things, and guides 
Our faltering steps, or long our lives or brief. 
For good it is for us to know that grief 
Is but a veil, without whose darkness hides 
The Light of Lights in whom each soul confides 
When Death to Life's sad doubting brings relief. 

As phantom lights upon some lonely fen 
Have lured astray the feet of weary men. 

So worldly thought our bonds with God has rent. 
In 6&^ipe years a star, a smile, a shower, 
The morn's soft dew, the storm, the waking flower. 

Will speak of Him and thus give men content. 
56 



Jacinta 



LYRIC 

COMMAND me not, my Queen, to go 
From out thy sight ; 
To brave the storm, the bUnding snow. 
The starless night. 

Within thy heart the shrine is placed 

Whereat I pray ; 
Ah, send me not, fore'er disgraced. 

In tears away. 

But let on me the love-light shine 

Within thine eyes, 
Wherein is stored the light divine 

When daytime dies. 



57 



Jacinta 



HOPE AT THE GRAVE OF LOVE 

OLOVE, dear Love, I stand my guard alone 
In night's sad calm beside thy sacred tomb ; 
Weary am I, and frightened at the gloom 
And at the sorrow in the poor wind's moan. 
Oh, my Beloved ! art thou not my own ? 
No fear have we to parted be by doom, 
For we are one. Thou only canst relume 
My lamp's pale light, half-spent and feeble grown. 

My heart is stifled by these flowers' breath, 
Which seems to whisper thou art one with Death 

And not with me. Yon lonely cushat dove 
Has ceased its song, and o'er the moistened grass 
The hopeless shadows with vague movements pass 

And pity me, who cry to thee, O Love ! 

58 



Jacinta 

WITH A VOLUME OF ELIZABETHAN 
LYRICS 

THESE songs, dear friend, may softly speak 
to thee 
Of happy hours, and soothe thy tender heart 
Of all unrest, and heal perchance the smart 
Of all thy woe and maiden misery. 
These men could sing ; their lovely melody 
In many eyes has made the tear-drops start. 
Their ware was love, the world was but the mart 
In which they showed their songs to you and me. 

And as you turn the throbbing pages o'er 
Remember this : that though they are no more 
Their words still live, like stars which shine 
above ; 
They ne'er will die, for hearts are still the same, 
And sure are men of everlasting fame 

Who croon the world to rest with songs of love. 
59 



Jacinta 



WITH A TANAGRA STATUETTE 

AS old, perhaps, though not so fair as She 
Who through long years of restlessness has 
stood 
The type of highest, purest womanhood, 
This statue is, I herewith proffer thee. 
That other's eyes look forward and they see 
Thy sisters* future ; these in pity brood 
Above their past. Thus both are truly good 
And worthy a true woman's sympathy. 

Dear Lady, then, within some shrined recess 
Place thou this one, whose downcast glances bless 

The pallid brows of her most patient dead ; 
So she may gain, when thou shalt hover near, 
Thy lamp's own light, and bear to each lonei^ier 

New words of peace and hopefulness instead. 
60 



Jacinta 



LYRIC 

PALE lips that yearn for kisses, 
Sad lips that ever grieve, 
Red lips that know what bliss is 

And taste of it at eve — 
Bethink you how the flowers 

Beneath the mould must He ; 
They bloom a few short hours 
And then they fade and die. 

O blue eyes live with fire, 

O black eyes lit with flame, 
O eyes that wake desire 

And eyes still soft with shame — 
Bethink you time is flying 

And love is passing, too ; 
At dawn you may be lying 

Beneath the sombre yew ! 
6i 



Jacinta 

There rest the old-time lovers, 

There sleep they, man and maid ; 
Too late each one discovers 

The sunshine turns to shade. 
Bethink you, you must follow, 

As night-time follows day, 
To where the hills are hollow 

And Love no more holds sway. 



62 



Jacinta 
THE HIGHER PRAISE 

(at the grave of RICHARD REALF, LONE MOUNTAIN) 

WITH curling lip I sought that chosen place 
Wherein, at last, earth's toilers rest, nor 
hear 
The fretful call of songbird, or the drear 
Dull boom of waves against the sad shore's face. 
The hopeless fog had ceased its spectral race 
In search of peace, which restless man holds 

dear 
And seldom finds. The air was cool and clear ; 
The flowers slept and night came on apace. 

Beneath a mound of simple green there lay 
A man who sang, yet lacks the deathless bay. 

And lies unheeded, though his art was great ; 
But while I mused the wind from o'er the sea 
With scented breath crept gently up to me 

And whispered low : ** Unloved of all — save 
Fate ! " 63 



Jacinta 



THE WRITING ON THE WALL 

I LOOK beyond the sunshine and I see 
Two ominous clouds grow larger day by day : 
Across the gloom with fitful flashes play 
The lightnings of our bondmen's enmity ; 
Our shackled hordes creep forward as the sea 
O'erfloods the land the which it gnaws away, 
And 'neath each smile I see a blank dismay 
Of what behind the future's veil may be. 

I hear a tramping as of men at arms, 

The bugles' shrilling and the drums' alarms. 

The cries of children and the mothers' groans ; 
The country trembles and the cities shake, 
The fools make merry but the wise men quake — 

They know the meaning of the undertones. 
64 



Jacinta 



TO ONE IN DOUBT 

IN one who treads each morn the mountains' 
height 
And sees the golden glory everywhere 
There is excuse, I hold, for sweet despair 
When sunbeams fade before encroaching night. 
The heart and soul crave ever ceaseless light 
And prove thereby dependance on His care 
From whom we say come all things good and 
fair — 
Each feathered priest and petaled anchorite. 

So when the shades with muffled footsteps creep 
Along the paths to put the flowers to sleep 

And phantom mists drop down o'er hill and dell, 
The heart grows sad because the spirit seems 
Too weak alone to face night's sombre dreams 

Forgetting this : The gloom is God's as well. 
S 6s 



Jacinta 



LYRIC 

O SWEET my loved one, hear my prayer, 
Be thou mine own and love me ! 
So dear art thou, so proud, so fair — 

Alas, so far above me. 
Yet thou, perchance, dear love, wilt deign 
To soothe a heart long steeped in pain, 
For pity is a maiden's gain — 
O sweet my loved one, hear ! 

So oft I 've prayed, my heart is sore. 

When far from thee I sorrow. 
And yet, alas, it pains me more 
To meet thee on the morrow. 
Ah, would that I were fondly pressed 
Against thy true, all-sacred breast, 
Then, then, ah then, might I find rest — 
O sweet my loved one, hear ! 
66 



LofO. 



Jacinta 



ROBERT BROWNING 

OPOET Soul ! whose most melodious songs 
Can soothe the heart attuned to Life's 
sweet sorrow, 
Our doubting minds from thy great strength can 
borrow 
That wondrous faith for which the God-Soul longs. 
Star-pure and calm amidst seraphic throngs 

Thou watchest now our stumbling feet, which 

follow 
Thy beaten track which on some hallowed 
morrow 
Shall lead us home from out this world of wrongs. 

As minor stars from out the central sun 
Beget their light, so we, till all is done, 

May solace find in soul-born melody ; 
We turn to thee, between whose every line . 
The primal thoughts of human welfare shine — 

Life, Love and God, and Immortality ! 
67 



Jacinta 



TO ONE WHO WEARS OPALS 

THINK not, dear lady, that a fateful gem 
Around thy form can cast unhallowed spell ; 
But rather know that it belongs full well 
Among the stones that form thy diadem. 
Fair are they all, but mistress over them. 
Lady, thou art, as rules the asphodel 
Among the drooping flowers, when the knell 
Of day's sad burial sounds their requiem. 

Nay, I do hold, at sight of thy kind face 
Those opals gain fresh virtues and the grace 
That is, dear lady, thine and e'er will be ; 
They thus become thy guards, whose duties are 
From hurt and harm of envious, baneful star 
Through night's and day's long hours to keep 
thee free. 

68 



Jacinta 



THE HIGHER MARRIAGE 

ONE summer's eve in yonder church I whiled 
An hour away in meditative prayer, 
And while I dreamed, a maid, most young and 
fair. 
With silent step approached the Dame most mild. 
Before her feet, with loving touch, the child 
Laid fresh-culled roses, odorous and rare, 
Whose scents commingled and possessed the air 
In purest passion, warm yet undefiled. 

Ah, when the soul forsakes this house of clay 
To roam untrammelled through the courts of Day 

And seek its fond companions of the past, 
May it not be that we (whose love is vain) 
May taste the sweets of innocence again 

And share the perfumes' purity at last? 

69 



Jacinta 



A PRAYER FOR A MAN'S PASSING 

LET me not pass till eve, 
Till that day's fight is done ; 
What soldier cares to leave 
The field until it 's won ! 
And I have loved my work and fain 
Would be deemed worthy of the ranks again. 

Let twilight come, then night, 

And when the first birds sing 
Their matin songs, and light 

Wakens each slumbering thing, 
Let Someone waken me, and set 

My feet to steps that lead me upward yet. 



70 



In Preparation 

BIGGS'S BAR, & OTHER 
KLONDYKE BALLADS 



J^UY A*^ ■•*' 



